The East Wind
by SaberSwan
Summary: Eurus had a rough childhood, and a rougher adulthood. Unexpected events have brought her to the continent's largest city, and she has no plans for the future. But will fate have plans for her? I'm terrible at descriptions. Story following my D&D character, Eurus Rieta, a Tiefling Rogue. Will continue throughout our 5-man campaign, with the story written from Eurus' perspective.
1. Chapter 1

I started life as most Tieflings do, dreadfully. When I was only three years old, my parents were attacked for nothing more than their appearance, and driven out of their home. They fled to the city of Lindholm with me in tow and attempted to make a living there, but again, they were attacked and discriminated against simply for their appearances. It wasn't as if we had made a pact with Asmodeus, our ancient ancestors had - but everyone treated us as if we might suddenly start murdering at any moment. When my father was arrested for theft, my mother had to take up his job in order to care for me, and soon became gravely ill. The priesthood of Selúne took us both in, but it was too late for my mother, and then suddenly, I was an orphan. The priesthood looked past my little horns and short, pointed tail, and raised me as one of their own. As I grew up, I continually became more mischievous, oftentimes creating trouble for myself, and I was dragged back to the temple by one of my ears by a priest far too often. They never threatened to kick me out or have me arrested though, and always stood up for me. They were the best surrogate parents I could have asked for. Despite that, when I turned 15, I decided it was time to head out on my own. I knew I wasn't cut out to be a priest, and I knew I would only be a burden to them. I knew I would likely excel at thieving, so I went and found the Thieves' guild of Lindholm, and convinced them to let me join. I left a long letter thanking the priesthood for everything, and just disappeared one night.

The guild took me in with open arms, and the leader of the guild, Tachus, took me on as his apprentice. He was impressed by my natural talent for stealth and sleight of hand, professing that he felt I could become a great thief with good training. I lived, breathed, and slept the guild for five years, gaining respect through those years. Eventually, I gained a reputation throughout the city based on my moniker, "The East Wind". My parents always used to tell me frightening stories of the East Wind, the terrifying force that laid waste to all in its path, seeking out the unworthy and plucking them from the earth. I adopted the moniker as a memorial to my parents, and I felt a rush of pride whenever I heard city folk shudder and claim, "There's an East Wind coming..."

When I turned twenty, Tachus promoted me to _Salar_ – second in command. When I was promoted, I was given an apprentice, Kieran. Kieran was just a human, around her age, and mainly just a normal person. Despite this, he interested Eurus – for one, he didn't recoil in fear when she introduced herself, and secondly, he didn't complain to Tachus later about her being his mentor. He was also a relatively skilled thief, on our first outing he successfully managed to pickpocket the captain of the guard. For the next ten years we were excellent thieves, always partners, and inseparable as friends. Eventually Kieran rose through the ranks and Eurus promoted him to _Ansalar_ – third in command. We quickly became the best thieves in all of Lindholm, and possibly in all of Laham. Every citizen feared the East Wind and the thunder it brought with it – we were on top of the world.

Slowly, however, we were becoming bored with the standard jobs, they were just too easy. We would finish a job perfectly and still be so bored that we turned to drink and frivolous spending. We decided during one of these nights that we needed a job that was more challenging. The only more challenging place that we could steal from was that of the royal wizard. His mansion was enormous, prickling with magical traps and wards, as well as having a full staff of guards. We started planning the job, staking out the mansion for months, monitoring guard rotations, and locating the majority of the traps. We knew that if we pulled off this heist, we would have certainty that we were the best thieves in all of Laham.

When the day of the heist came, we were confident, prepared, and surging with excitement. The thrill of the heist was one of our favorite feelings, and we rode this high throughout the job. Everything was going smoothly until it came to our escape. Because of the loot that we were carrying, we needed to leave the mansion using a different route. We were leaving the compound using a secret door to the basement, when we mistakenly triggered a magical ward. Bells rang out throughout the mansion and we bolted, running toward the river that bordered the mansion. Suddenly, nearly all of the mansion guards were upon us, and we were forced to drop a bag of loot each in order to outrun them. We made it to our escape boat and shoved away from the bank, quickly receding into the night.

Only when we were halfway across the river toward freedom did I realize Kieran was bleeding. One of the guardsmen had landed an arrow, between ribs on his left side. I rushed to his side and ripped one of my sleeves off in order to bandage the wound. I slowly realized the amount of blood was not normal, that the arrow must have been poisoned, and Kieran was fading fast. Tears overflowed onto my cheeks as I realized the inevitable, and Kieran reached up to brush them away.

"Please don't cry, Eurus... We succeeded. People will still fear the East Wind," Kieran held his hand on the side of my face; continually brushing away more tears with his thumb.

"Kieran, no, I can't _do_ this without you – I...," Words were impossible as my throat closed with emotion, and I leaned into Kieran's palm against my face.

"You _can_ , Eurus. You've always been the better thief. I only wish I'd have the chance to see you become even greater. You must know though, right? You know I love you," He looked at me with such emotion in his eyes that I think I felt something shatter deep within me.

"Kieran, of course – I... I love you too, I-," I barely choked out the words through the tears, but as soon as he heard them he let his eyes slide closed, and a smile appeared on his face. Quickly thereafter his breathing slowed to a stop, and I screamed my grief into the blackness. Suddenly my whole world felt empty, as if he had taken it with him. As we washed up on the opposite shore, other members of the guild intercepted the boat. Seeing Kieran's body, they froze – I lifted it in my arms and pushed past them, barking a quick order regarding the loot from the heist. I took his body to the guild and built a pyre for him in the main hall. Other guild members attempted to help me, but in my grief I could accept no help and shoved them away. By the time the pyre was finished, Tachus arrived on the scene and saw the state that I was in. I lit the pyre silently as Tachus gently put a hand on my shoulder. It was the contact of my mentor that broke me – the dam broke and all of my grief washed to the surface. I wept into his shoulder until the pyre was only embers, and only then did I retire to my quarters.

For the weeks following, I was inconsolable. I blamed myself for his death, insisting that if I had been better, if I had only known more about the mansion before starting the job, I could have prevented this. I knew that, despite what Kieran said, I could not go on in Lindholm. Every street corner held a memory, every bar a night of debauchery, all of them featuring Kieran. I couldn't live every day being haunted by his memory, being constantly reminded of my failure. I realized eventually that if I wanted to be able to live my life, it would have to be elsewhere.

I set my sights on the largest city on the continent, and for the second time in my life, I left a note and disappeared into the night.

"Brace yourself Cirrane, for there's an East Wind coming..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Intro Campaign – Our DM wanted us to have a sort of backstory as to why we were all in the same place. This also involved, for the new people in the group, the ability to get a little practice in combat and such. He admits that he planned on railroading us a bit through this in order to make sure that we all got to the same place, but in the future, we will be far more able to go where we please. At any rate, I'm excited to see what he comes up with in this mysterious agency, and excited to write out more of the story!**

As soon as I arrived in Cirrane, I put my ear to the ground and found the local thieves guild. I was happy to find that the majority of the guild _had_ heard of me, or at least heard of my moniker. After a few simple jobs the guild confirmed my skills, and I quickly gained a position of respect. With the money I'd saved from my fateful last heist I bought a small home in the Laham district of Cirrane. The guild here was flourishing with the trade from the five nations that controlled the city, and part of that income went to each of its members, of course.

I was constantly being asked to help out on jobs, and I often had to turn down several that were happening at the same time as the one I had already committed to. One job in particular interested me however, that one of the other members tipped me off to. Apparently, there was a house in the dockside district owned by a group of mercenaries that had recently come into some wealth. I was immediately hooked, and also excited because it was a job I could do by myself. I've been trying to avoid jobs that involve teams, but even more so, jobs involving small teams. I feel better knowing I'm the only one risking my neck over these things, and that no one else will die due to a mistake that I've made.

I made my way to the house in the dead of night, a hood over my head, with my horns poking out of the front. As I walked up to the house, I saw lights in the first floor windows, and a figure moving in one of the rooms. An alley to the right of the building was dark and empty, and I made my way to that side of the building. There were windows on this side of the building on the second floor, and some crates along the wall of the building. I climbed up the siding on the house, making my way up almost to the window, when I felt a tingle run up my fingers and into my sleeve. With a shudder, I realized that an enormous, hairy spider had just climbed up my arm, and I froze. I felt the abhorrent, hairy legs tickling their way up to my elbow and I nearly shrieked. Calmly, I removed my hand from the wall and attempted to shake the little ball of evil from my sleeve. It wasn't budging. I shook my arm more violently, and much less calmly, and it seemed to be moving toward my wrist finally. However, my flailing must have upset it, because it bit my forearm, and that was the last straw. On instinct, my other hand went to slap the demon off of my arm, and suddenly I realized I was falling.

I crashed into the crates below, splintering the top one and coming to a rest in its' skeleton on top of the others. The only solace that came from my abject thieving failure was the flattened carcass of the spider on the crate next to me. I lay in the wreck of wooden splinters for probably five minutes, stewing in my shame and listening to see if anyone had heard the whole debacle. After I had mentally smacked myself about a million times, I groaned and got up off of the crates to repeat my climbing attempt. This time I made it up with only a couple slips of my foot and an aching in my back. As I reached the window ledge I cursed my lack of practice with climbing and resolved to practice more in the future. Carefully peering into the window I spied a dark hallway with several doors off of it as well as a staircase leading down to the lit up lower floor.

Unlocking and climbing into the window, I check again and find a door on the far side of the hall has a small flickering light coming from beneath it. I snuck to the closest door and quietly opened it, seeing a man sleeping on a bed and what appeared to be another empty bed. There was a small chest in the room, next to the occupied bed, and deciding that it was likely not where anything valuable was stored, I quietly backed out of the room. The next room was empty, but much the same – the chest contained some clothing and other personal items, and again I backed out quietly.

Upon silently opening the last door, I began to hear some quiet conversation. Not being able to tell what they were saying, I moved slowly into the room and hid behind a stack of crates in the corner. Looking around the room, it seemed to be storage of some sort, a fairly empty room with the main contents being the two men near the window and the crates that I was hiding behind. After hiding in the room for several minutes, I realized they had nothing interesting to say, and I quietly left. Since there was only the first floor left, I crept down the stairs and moved to the darkened room to the right of the staircase, assuming there would be no one there. It turned out to be the kitchen, and there was no room off of the back of it, so I was again at a dead end. As I was leaving the room, I saw a flicker on the wall and my tail twitched violently thinking of the spider that was my demise earlier. Apparently, the spider then got its last revenge for its murder, because my tail managed to knock a tall stack of pots off of the counter behind me, which clattered to the ground with an astounding crash.

I froze in place for a moment, listening intently for the telltale sounds that I'd been discovered. A shout rang out from the other room on the first floor, and I bolted out of the room into the living room that was at the bottom of the stairs. I immediately rushed to the front door, and found it locked. Hearing footsteps pounding down the stairs, I debated the merits of fighting the four (and possibly more) men that were in the house. Deciding that their loot was not worth my trouble, I smashed the window next to the door with my elbow. Clearing it of glass, I clambered out and bolted for the street.

Almost as soon as I was away from the house, I felt a hand grip my shoulder from behind, and I panicked. Whipping my tail at my detainer, I wrenched myself from their grasp, only to find myself suddenly facing them once more. A shadowy figure, their face obscured by a hood, shoved a note into my hand and seemed to stare into my soul.

"Better luck next time, Eurus," A gravelly voice sprung from the hood and almost chuckled as the figure tossed a smoke bomb at my feet and disappeared.

Shaking the confusion from my shoulders, I heard a shout from the alley behind me and realized the people whose house I'd just broken into were probably still chasing me, and decided I needed to escape. When I later arrived home, it was nearly dawn, and I was still on an adrenaline high from the failed job. I finally sat down to read the note, and realized it was not a threat of any kind.

"We have been watching you closely, and are interested in your particular talents. This letter represents the wishes of an organization that wishes to employ you for your skills in thievery and stealth. If interested, meet at _Percival's Pickle Purveyors_ at noon tomorrow, in the market district." The note came with a pass into the market district attached, and I could hardly contain my laughter at the name of the store.

I decided to sleep on the prospect, and got a meager amount of rest before waking at 10am, and deciding to at least go and scope out the place. I made my way to the market district, given access by the pass attached to the letter, and arrived at the pickle shop. I sat at a coffee shop across the square from the store and watched as customers trickled in and out of the storefront, until one caught my eye. A richly-dressed dragonborn with brilliantly silvery scales approached the store, looking around shiftily before he entered. I quickly paid for my coffee and moved to the alley next to the shop. The dragonborn came out of the front of the shop and looked about himself as if checking for followers. Of course, he did not see me, lingering in the shadows of an awning down the alley from him. He approached a door set flush with the back wall of the store, and knocked four times with an odd pattern. He waited for a moment, and then entered.

Walking up to the door slowly, I inspected it – it was without a handle, and the hinges were covered by heavy metal meant to protect them. I thought for a moment, and knocked with the same pattern that the dragonborn had. To my frustration, I heard nothing, and after a minute, decided that this was not the correct code anymore. I grudgingly moved to the front of the building, and entered the store. Jars of pickles lined the walls and shelves, a variety that surprised me even as it amused me. The vendor appeared to be an ancient human man, the wrinkles on his face nearly obscuring his features. He glared daggers as I approached him, his eyes seeming to disagree on whether to look at my horns or my tail. Already this was starting off badly. I decided then to make this interaction as quick as possible. Engaging the angry old man with some basic conversation, I managed to work a question in thieves cant into the conversation, asking about the letter that brought me here. Unfortunately, the man obviously did not understand the language, and lost his already thin front of conversation, outright asking me to get my 'devil skin' out of his shop. I decided then to shove the letter into his face and asked where I was supposed to go. I was fed up with the angry old man and his discrimination.

He grumbled loudly, knocked a new pattern on the counter, and pointed toward the rear of the shop, to the door where I had just been. I promptly re-took my letter and left the shop, pointedly lashing several jars of pickles off of a shelf on my way. This earned an angry shout from the old man, and I only grinned while walking out the door. I returned to the rear door, knocked the pattern, and gained entry. A large man showed me inside, and down into a hatch on the floor. I entered into a cellar of some kind, filled with barrels of wine and other foodstuffs – including, of course, pickles. I looked around the cellar for a moment before I heard a small 'ahem' from behind me. A small, redheaded Halfling woman had appeared at the opposite end of the cellar from me, and beckoned me her way. She led me through a secret passage in a rather large wine cask, down through a tunnel, and into what appeared to be a large operation. There were piles of money being sorted on tables around a cavernous room. My tail twitched looking at the piles of money, every bone in my body wanted to grab a pile and run for the hills, but I knew that it was a failed venture before it even began. There were guards around the room, and weapons casually leaned against most of the tables. I was led to and ushered into a room, seeing the familiar sight of silvery scales sitting at the table. The dragonborn turned upon hearing me enter, and upon looking me over, his face fell.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were the person bringing me my food," He said offhand, immediately turning back away from me, uninterestedly. My tail lashed behind me and I already did not like the man. Clearly rich by his clothes and his manner, I wanted nothing to do with him. I moved to the other end of the table and sat down, glaring at the aloof dragon.


End file.
